


Your Angle or Your Devil

by Bouncey



Series: Roll For Iniative [2]
Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, College AU, Drinking, Dungeons & Dragons 5th Edition, Everyone Is Gay, F/F, First Kiss, Fluff and almost smut, Geralt gets crossfaded and does not regret it, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Getting Together, Grad School AU, Gratuitous film references, Halloween Costumes, Jaskier is a drama queen, M/M, PWP without Porn, References to Drugs, The Soundtrack to Every High School Dance, The Witcher Squad D&D AU, Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg Ships It, accidental couples costume, everyone is horny, halloween party
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:07:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25208956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bouncey/pseuds/Bouncey
Summary: “So, what are you going to be?” Triss asked, turning to Jaskier as soon as Geralt was out of earshot.“I’m going to be the same thing I am every day,” he winked, circling his hands above his head like a makeshift halo. “An angel.”“You know,” Yen drawled, leaning her torso across her girlfriend’s lap to make eye contact with Jaskier. “I’d like to make a bet about Halloween night.”“Yeah? What’re you thinking?”“I’m betting that Geralt kisses you before the clock strikes twelve,” she smirked.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Triss Merigold/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Series: Roll For Iniative [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1824841
Comments: 15
Kudos: 260





	Your Angle or Your Devil

**Author's Note:**

> Yes I know the title is spelled wrong. I promise that's on purpose (also if you haven't seen that meme before...what are you doing on the internet?). 
> 
> The next story gets back into the D&D campaign I promise. I just wanted something self indulgent so...oops.

“Alright, I think we’re going to call it there,” Triss smiled, slowly lowering the lid of her laptop. “Geralt needs to get some sleep for work tomorrow, I’m assuming?”

“Yeah, thanks for keeping your eye on the clock,” he said, twisting his head and cracking his neck in several places. “I certainly wasn’t.”

“That was a great puzzle trap, Triss,” Jaskier beamed. “My brain will hurt for days. Excellent session, as always.”

“No game next week, though, right?” Ciri clarified, gathering her dice into their tiny leather carrying pouch. “We're throwing a Halloween party. You’re coming, right Geralt?”

“Am I invited?” 

“Duh,” four voices answered in unison. 

“You’ve been playing D&D with us for nearly a month and studying with us every night that you don’t have work,” Yen scoffed, “Of course you’re invited to our annual Halloween bash. Just don’t show up without a costume or you won’t be let through the door.”

"Security will be tight," Ciri winked. She was always the one to answer the back door for him when he came over, since her room was the only one downstairs. "So don't think you're getting in dressed like regular old Geralt. I also don't accept snotty or sarcastic remarks written on plain white t-shirts. Those aren't costumes, they're excuses."

“Oh no, am I stepping in on an established tradition among friends?” the Anthropology major asked, casting a nervous glance around the circle.

“There’s no point in establishing a tradition if there aren’t more friends to have it among,” Jaskier said. “So you’d better be here at eight sharp next Friday and you’d better be wearing a costume.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“I like that. You can keep calling me that.”

“Oh no,” Triss groaned into her hands. “You’ve created a monster now, Geralt. Get out of my house.”

“See you on Tuesday,” Geralt waved and made his way down the stairs. He’d been visiting often enough that nobody felt the need to walk him to the door anymore. Ciri would lock it before she went to bed, anyway.

“So, what are you going to be?” Triss asked, turning to Jaskier as soon as Geralt was out of earshot. “I’m sure it’s going to be either overly adorable or heinously sexy.”

“I’m going to be the same thing I am every day,” he winked, circling his hands above his head like a makeshift halo. “An angel.”

“You know,” Yen drawled, leaning her torso across her girlfriend’s lap to make eye contact with Jaskier. “I’d like to make a bet about Halloween night.”

“Yeah? What’re you thinking?”

“I’m betting that Geralt kisses you before the clock strikes twelve,” she smirked.

“Alright, you’re on. What are the terms?”

Geralt hadn’t known what else to wear. He didn’t really  _ do  _ Halloween most years; he’d been too busy working an extra shift at the university library or being a lonely little shit  like usual. But since he’d been taking Friday nights off for Dungeons & Dragons that meant this Halloween night was already free. There would be no excuse for missing the party. 

So he settled for a select amount of pieces from his rather expensive Renaissance Faire getup. The shin guards, chainmail shirt, pauldrons, and bracers would work just fine for a makeshift knight costume. The plain black pirate-esque shirt he always wore for safety was tucked beneath everything else and he'd chosen a pair of comfortable but _complimentary_ black pants to go tie everything together. He shoved his favorite silver shortsword into his backpack, tied his hair up into a tight ponytail, and reached for the keys to his bike. 

His hand hesitated over the doorknob as he thought of one final excuse.

_ Maybe I shouldn’t go. There will be drinking and I don’t want to drive home too late on Halloween… _ he pulled out his phone to shoot Jaskier a message.

**Geralt:** **_Hey, would it be cool if I spent the night after the party? I don’t wanna ride my bike home cuz people drink a lot on Halloween._ **

**Jaskier:** **_Totally understand. You can have my bed and I can take the couch._ **

**Geralt:** **_Let me be the gentleman and take the couch. Thanks, Jas. See you soon._ **

**Jaskier:** **_Drive safe. Cya!_ **

With an excellent overnight plan in place and no shift waiting for him in the morning, Geralt mounted his faithful motorcycle and made his way to his first real college Halloween party.

“Oh my  _ fu-cking god, _ ” Ciri gasped as she opened the door and looked over Geralt's outfit. “Did you know? Did you do this on purpose?”

“What are you talking about?” Geralt asked, suddenly feeling  _ very  _ under-dressed for the occasion. Ciri’s Little Red Riding hood costume was gorgeously tailored. The twisting vine pattern along the edge of the cape looked hand-sewn and the checkered red-and-white skirt was tea-length, leaving her  _ hot  _ but in a weirdly  _ not hot  _ way. It was subtle and brilliant and totally Ciri; Geralt couldn’t have been prouder. “I just didn’t have a lot of options, okay? This is from my Holly stuff.”

“You mean the Holly Renaissance Faire?” 

“Yes, the Ren Faire. What did I not know, though?”

“Oh, nothing. Just wait until you see Jaskier. He’s going to lose his  _ mind _ .”

He followed her up the stairs, as usual. The music was loud but not overly so; he could talk to Ciri if he raised his voice a little. The atmosphere was gentler than Geralt had been expecting once they reached the actual party. Groups of people milled around, filling the space but not crowding one another. There were people dancing, chatting, and some tucked away in the corner with snacks and bottles of water. People who'd gone too hard too fast. When they reached the kitchen, Ciri peeled off to talk to another group of guests. 

Geralt took the opportunity to admire their decor. Yennefer had strung colorful lights around the border of the ceiling and Triss hung a disco ball above the living room ‘dance floor’. Two small rotating spotlights were affixed to either of Jaskier’s enormous speakers, aimed at the disco ball and sending rays of multicolored light skittering across the room as they moved to the beat. All the normal lights and been turned off and one standing lamp in the kitchen provided the only stable source. 

“Oh my god. Nice job Romeo,” Triss laughed, approaching from behind and bumping her hip against Geralt’s in lieu of greeting. “I didn't know you two had planned an homage.”

“Okay, what am I missing?” Geralt asked. “Ciri asked me if I’d done this on purpose and now you think it’s an homage?”

“You must not have seen Jas yet, huh?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Well he’s seen you,” she said, gesturing across the room with her red solo cup. The giddy bard was standing next to a table laden with various colored cups, eyes bright and smile somehow even brighter. He was wearing white skinny jeans rolled up to mid-calf and a flowing sheer white blouse. There was a small pair of white feathered angel wings hooked over his shoulders and a sparkly golden halo suspended on thin wire over his brown hair. 

_Oh, I see what’s happened,_ Geralt realized with a start. _We look like we planned a couple's costume._ They had accidentally dressed in the masquerade ball costumes from Baz Luhrmann’s 1996 ‘Romeo + Juliet’ movie. Because _of course_ they had. Destiny was a bitch sometimes; well, if Geralt had been upset about this he might have called her a bitch. But he wasn’t upset. Not at all. He rather liked Destiny right at this moment, in fact.

Jaskier had been flirting with him openly ever since that first little peace sign on syllabus day and Geralt had done his best to flirt back. He wasn’t very good at it, unfortunately, and he was well aware that he had a problem. He came across as too subtle. Too quiet. But tonight was _Hallowe'en_ ; the veil between life and death was at its thinnest and Geralt might just die if he didn’t finally make a move on Jaskier. The younger man had been kind from the first moment and Geralt knew he deserved something romantic. Luckily even an Anthropology student could provide romance. Shakespeare had been a particular favorite of his in high school. 

“Wish me luck,” he muttered to Triss. 

“Break a leg,” she replied quickly, taking a sip of her drink.

Geralt made his way over to Jaskier and held his hand out for a drink. When Jaskier gave it to him their knuckles brushed together (which may have been intentional) and he caught the young man’s hand with his free one, “ If I profane with my unworthiest hand this holy shrine, the gentle fine is this: my lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.”

He brushed his lips against the skin of Jaskier’s knuckles, feather light, and watched as the brunette turned the brightest shade of pink Geralt had ever seen (and he’d seen Jaskier drunkenly sing the ‘Humuhumunukunukuapua'a’ song from ‘High School Musical 2’ after one particularly lively D&D session).

“I...I-uh,” Jaskier gulped. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. When he opened them again that mischievous glint had returned, “Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, which mannerly devotion shows in this; for saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch, and palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss.”

Jaskier removed his hand from Geralt’s and used it to lift one of the red cups off the table and up to his lips. Geralt’s eyes didn’t leave the younger man's mouth the entire time it took him to polish off whatever fruity liquor had been inside. “If I quote any more Shakespeare I might just lose my nerve,” Geralt admitted. “I’d really like to kiss you. Can I kiss you?”

For a moment there was only the beat of the music behind them, drowned out only by the thundering of Geralt’s heartbeat in his own ears. Jaskier’s tongue flicked out to wet his lips and he stared up at Geralt with a sense of almost  _ wonder.  _ “Yeah,” he breathed. 

Geralt’s hand drifted to cup Jaskier’s cheek and the edge of his jaw. He tilted the shorter man’s head back and lowered his mouth towards Jaskier’s, waiting for him to bridge the distance. Finally those bubblegum lips pressed against his and fireworks went off behind Geralt’s closed lids.  _ Why did I spend so long pretending I was okay with subtlety? This is... _ he  _ is amazing! _

“Wow,” the usually talkative brunette giggled as they pulled apart, looking up at Geralt with those wide blue eyes. “You’re…”

“Your one love sprung from your only hate?”

“You’re  _ hot. _ ” 

There was nothing Geralt could do but laugh out loud and allow Jaskier to drag him into the living room and onto the dance floor. 

Triss and Yennefer high-fived in the kitchen and Ciri wandered her way over to them. “Mission successful, ladies.”

“ _ Almost, _ ” Yennefer smirked. “It’s  _ almost  _ successful. Did Jaskier tell you about our bet?”

“Wait, is he actually going to go through with that nonsense?”

“Geralt kissed him before midnight, so he lost the bet and he  _ has  _ to go through with it.”

“Fuck yeah,” Triss practically cackled with glee. “Geralt is going to lose his  _ fucking  _ mind, girls.”

“I’m glad my room is in the basement,” Ciri sighed, taking a sip from her fancy fall-themed beer. “I won’t have to hear them through the walls.”

“Goddamnit!” Yen groaned. “I made one fatal mistake.”

“What song did you say he had to enter to again?” Triss asked, elbowing her girlfriend in the side.

“I gave him the choice between ‘Sexy Bitch’ by David Guetta or ‘Sexyback’ by Justin Timberlake.”

“Which one did he go with?”

“Take a guess.”

“This is absolutely going on the internet,” Ciri asserted, getting her phone ready for the results of Jaskier’s bet with Yennefer. “Too bad their matching costume thing won’t be as cute after this, though.”

“Worth it.”

The three girls watched with knowing smiles as, maybe an hour and a half after starting to dance with Geralt, Jaskier excused himself and jogged down the hall to his room. He shot them a quick and pointed glare before ducking inside. Geralt wandered their direction and accepted the drink Ciri handed him. “You’re going to want to finish that before Jaskier gets back,” she warned him.

“Why?”

“Just trust me.”

He tossed that drink and another down his throat in quick succession, suddenly nervous. He didn’t trust the three other grad students as far as he could throw them (which would probably be pretty far depending on how much they ate for breakfast). “Hey,” Yennefer said, tapping his shoulder insistently. “Are you 4/20 friendly, Geralt of Rivia?”

“Excuse me?”

“Do you smoke weed?” Ciri translated. He shrugged.

“Once or twice. I’m not  _ opposed  _ but I usually can’t afford it on a librarian’s salary.”

“Oh my god you’re a fucking  _ librarian? _ ” Triss hissed. He nodded. “Jaskier is living in a fucking sitcom.”

“A very gay sitcom,” Yen interjected. 

Geralt was too damn hot to keep his knightly armor on any longer. He shrugged out of the silver pauldrons, bracers, and chainmail to reveal the billowing black shirt he’d worn underneath. It was his favorite costume piece; plain, rather thin black linen that cinched at the wrists and laced at the throat. He’d worn it loose tonight for  _ obvious  _ reasons, a small puff of white chest hair and both of his collarbones peeking out from the neckline. He'd tucked the hem into his high-waisted black leather-and-spandex Ren Faire pants, which complimented the ass he worked so hard to cultivate. He'd sewn buttons in a neat row on either side of his pelvis to add a personal touch and these had gotten him plenty of kind attention at Holly. Certainly the outfit would work on the horny pile of bisexual dumbassery that was Jaskier.

Yennefer gave him a once-over and whistled. A small blunt suddenly appeared in her hand, already lit.  “Here, have a puff or two, hot stuff. You’re gonna thank me in a minute. He always takes  _ forever _ when he wants to be dramatic.”

“We have a music cue anyway. He has to text Darren when he wants to come out, remember?”

“Oh fuck yeah!” Yen laughed. She watched Geralt take a few practiced puffs and gave him an impressed nod. “Not bad for a white-haired boy.”

“Do you think Sir Geralt here is going to be able to stay virtuous when he sees the fair Jaskier in his new getup?” Ciri asked, leaning against the counter and tossing her cape atop Geralt's discarded armor. The hem of Yen's witch's hat kept falling into her eyes and eventually she also added it to the pile. Triss rolled her eyes, the flowing hippie dress she'd picked out was perfect for both crowded parties and MA classes. There was no need for her to take anything off. Unless Yen offered later...

“He had to shave for this one,” Yennefer giggled. Geralt had never seen her  _ giggle _ like that before; it was scary. “His chest  _ and  _ his legs.”

“Fucking hell guys, what did you bet on?” Geralt groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Give me another puff, Yen. Please.”

“He can be your devil or your angle,” Ciri joked, watching Geralt take another long drag from Yen’s mystery blunt. “Oh shit, Darren’s giving me the okay! Here he comes!”

The music suddenly switched over from some Lady Gaga track to David Guetta’s ‘Sexy Bitch’.  _ Oh my god, these guys are actually trying to kill me in real life and in-game,  _ Geralt decided. Jaskier exited his bedroom, where he’d apparently disappeared to in order to make a costume change.

The soft, flirty, feathered boy from earlier in the evening was gone; standing in the middle of the familiar apartment hallway was the most sinful creature Geralt had ever seen in his fucking life.

_ “Yes I can see her, _

_ Cause every girl in here wanna be her. _

_ Oh she's a diva! _

_ I feel the same and I wanna meet her.” _

Jaskier’s usually flippy brown hair had been gelled up slightly in the front, like the short guy from One Direction. Geralt couldn’t be bothered to remember his name at the moment. The white capris had been replaced by a pair of  _ tight _ black denim shorts and Yen was right, he’d shaved his legs. They glowed, pale and lithe in the light from the rotating disco ball. Geralt’s hands itched to touch.

_ “They say she low down, _

_ It's just a rumor and I don't believe ‘em. _

_ They say she needs to slow down, _

_ The baddest thing around town.” _

His flowing white blouse was gone. Someone, Ciri probably, had gotten a shitty wolf t-shirt from the hippie store at the mall and ripped it rather fashionably down the front in several places. The sleeves and sides had been cut entirely off and the shirt was tied closed with a knot against either one of Jaskier’s hips. Underneath was a long-sleeved black fishnet shirt, criss-crossing the younger man’s skin and... _ Is he wearing fucking  _ eyeliner?  _ I’m going to die,  _ he decided. 

It was the most incredible outfit Geralt had ever seen him in. Halloween needed to happen more than once a fucking year, honest to gods.

_ “She's nothing like no girl you've ever seen before _

_ Nothing you can compare to your neighborhood ho _

_ I'm trying to find the words to describe this girl without being disrespectful.” _

Jaskier approached him directly and reached for his hand. “You kissed me before midnight so Yennefer won the bet. At least I didn’t shave my entire fucking body for nothing.”

“Jas, I-”

“Shut up and dance with me, Geralt.”

_ “The way that booty movin' I can't take no more. _

_ Have to stop what I'm doin' so I can pull her close, _

_ I'm trying to find the words to describe this girl without being disrespectful.” _

Geralt didn’t really have time to argue. One minute he was standing next to the kitchen counter with Triss, Yen, and Ciri and the next he was out in the middle of the living room, Jaskier’s warm body pressed tightly against his. 

_ “Damn, girl! _

_ Damn you'se a sexy bitch, _

_ A sexy bitch. _

_ Damn you'se a sexy bitch, _

_ Damn, girl!” _

Jaskier’s back was pressed tightly against the planes of Geralt’s chest. He was sure the younger man could feel his heart beating through the thin material of his black Ren Faire shirt. Jaskier had one hand tangled in the black leather laces; his fingers looked spellbinding all caught up and tugging in the dark web of strings. Geralt leaned down and rumbled into Jaskier’s ear with his character voice, “Damn, Jask. You look amazing. I could just  _ eat you up. _ ”

“What does that make you?” Jaskier half-asked, half-gasped. Geralt could see that his pupils were blown wide in the dim light. “Prince Charming or the Big Bad Wolf?”

“I thi-” his answer was choked off as Jaskier’s perky ass rotated rather forcefully against his groin. The cheeky fucker swirled his hips back and forth and kept his gaze locked with Geralt’s while he did it, holding the older man hypnotized with those bright blue eyes. It felt as if he was a million miles away from the Halloween party, somewhere with only him and Jaskier and the music. 

_ Gods it’s been a long time since I was last crossfaded,  _ Geralt realized. He bent his head down and captured Jaskier’s lips again. The young man spun in his arms until they were chest-to-chest, slender fingers finding their way out of Geralt's neckline, into his hair, and against his scalp. It felt  _ incredible.  _ “I  _ really  _ like you, Jask.”

“I know,” he winked. “I like you too.”

“Cool. Wanna be, like…” Geralt didn’t know how to ask. He’d never really  _ had  _ to ask before. Everything before Jaskier was so  _ casual  _ and he wanted this thing to be  _ more  _ than casual. He wanted the idiot bard and _only_ the idiot bard.

“Yeah, Ger. I’ll be your boyfriend,” Jaskier smiled softly. A smile just for Geralt. He pressed their lips together again, looping his arms around the older man’s neck like he was the female lead in a RomCom. The music changed again and Jaskier kissed him for a moment longer before pulling away with a bright smile on his face. “I love this song! Dance with me, babe!”

The pet name sent a thrill of joy through Geralt and he followed Jaskier closer to the speakers, led by their intertwined fingers. “T-Tell your boyfriend if he says he’s got beef, that I’m a vegetarian and I ain’t fuckin’ scared of him!” Jaskier and many other partygoers sang at the tops of their lungs. Geralt’s ears rang with the sound but he couldn’t stop a smile from splitting his face. Jaskier didn’t  _ perform  _ his happiness. He just  _ lived  _ everything he  _ felt _ and if other people thought it was fake then...well, too bad for them. They were missing out on something __ incredible. Geralt’s fucking silly and absolutely perfect boyfriend. 

He rested his hands on Jaskier’s hips and kissed the top of his half-gelled updo. “You really do look amazing like this.”

“Yennefer picked it out,” he replied, half-shouting to be heard over the music. “You can thank her.”

Geralt lowered his mouth against Jaskier's ear so he didn't have to destroy his vocal chords by yelling. “I will. You know, you should come stay at my place sometime. I’ll make you dinner and we can watch a movie just the two of us.”

“Geralt,” Jaskier half-whined, erasing any of the space between their bodies. “I’m already crossfaded and  _ incredibly horny. _ Please do not make it any worse by offering to make me food and snuggle me in your no doubt sparsely furnished living quarters.”

“My apartment is pretty comfy, actually. I have a lot of plants.”

“Oh my god. Stop talking and put your tongue directly in my mouth. Do not pass Go, do not collect two hundred dollars.”

Geralt obliged.

“Oh God, that is going to get insufferable after awhile," Yennefer gagged. Geralt and Jaskier hadn't broken apart for air in nearly two minutes and the girls were growing concerned.

“We did a good thing, Yen,” Triss said, running a calming hand down her girlfriend’s arm. _Oh thank god, finally. I thought they might pass out right there in the living room. Oh? No. They're kissing again._ “We’re even now. We might have actually paid him back with interest, all things considered.”

“Yeah, I guess." Yennefer pressed a gentle kiss to Triss's temple. "He did a great thing for us.”

“Me next,” Ciri said, popping a chip into her mouth and grinning widely as she crunched it between her teeth. 

“You’re an impossible little monster,” Yen said. “And we love you that way.”

“I’ll just find another monster,” Ciri shrugged. 

“Can you imagine  _ two  _ of them?” Triss shuddered. 

“At least now our dungeoneering party is the perfect size for taking on higher class monsters,” Ciri beamed. “Level ups, bitches!”

“You’re the worst kind of player, Cirilla.”

“Yup. That’s why you adopted me and not the ginger kid from Horror Lit with the M&M addiction.”

“Darn tootin’.”

Jaskier peeled the fishnet shirt from his body and laughed when the criss-cross patterns remained embedded in his skin. “I look like I followed one of those shitty mermaid makeup art tutorials,” he laughed. Geralt ran one of his large hands down Jaskier’s bare side and reveled in the feeling of warm skin. 

“Are you a cuddler? I really hope you’re a cuddler,” Geralt muttered. He planted several wet kisses against the shorter man's neck.

“You have  _ met me  _ right, darling?” Jaskier asked, removing Geralt's shirt rather forcefully and tossing it into a dark corner. "Pants, too. I wanna spoon."

“Say it again.”

“Darling? Or I wanna spoon?”

“No one’s ever had pet names for me before. I think I love it.”

“Well get used to lots of compliments and verbal affirmations. That’s my love language. Also lots of gentle touching and the giving of gifts.”

“I like actions. I’m a do-er. I hope you like random shit around your apartment getting fixed and also maybe sometimes presents.”

“Both of those sound great to me. It’s good that you know these things about yourself.”

“Yeah, I’ve read a few articles,” Geralt shrugged. He laid down on Jaskier’s bed and after a moment his eyebrows scrunched together. “Is this the Target-brand bedspread from fucking  _ Twilight? _ ” 

“Maybe,” Jaskier shrugged. “I outbid some asshole movie prop collector named Valdo Marx for it on Ebay, so it's my most prized possession. Wait, how did you recognize it?”

“Don’t think about it for too long and just get under it with me.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice.”

"Maybe when you visit my place we can watch a movie all the way to the end," Geralt laughed. Jaskier pulled his boyfriend's arm across his chest like a seatbelt and backed up until they were pressed completely against each other. 

"You heard that?"

"Yes. I also heard that you were _violently bisexual_ and _desperate for anyone who wasn't an asshole._ I hope I'm not an asshole."

"Not even a little," Jaskier whispered. The drinks and the weed were catching up to him, pulling him under the blanket of sleep. "See you in the morning."

"G'night Jas."

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts, feelings, favorite monster encounters for D&D campaigns? I'm partial to Mimics and Beholders.


End file.
